Should I?

I should be writing a paper right now. I should be preparing a presentation. I should be reading an ancient text. I should be answering discussion questions. Instead, I am reading through old blogs and prayers. 

Should’s are dangerous. 

I should be over this by now. I should have my future figured out. I should stop procrastinating. I should be a better friend. I should be more independent. I should be deeper in community. 

Should’s make me feel defined by productivity and progress…or lack thereof. Should’s are a list of things I feel I can accomplish by sheer will.

I can’t take credit for this revelation. I keep reading about not succumbing to the should’s. I read about it in blogs. I read about it in assignments relating to my spiritual well-being. I hear it from across the table at lunch with a friend. Yet, inadvertently I started this post with a list of should’s. 

I should probably learn this lesson.

But I can’t. Not on my time anyway. Not by my strength.  

The fact is there is no timeline. The fact is my growth is not by my strength.

Who defines the should anyway? Certainly not me.  Except, that’s not true. It is me...at least partially. I think should’s come from my future self--an idealized, subconscious image of who I could be if I would only do what I should. This future self meets and exceeds everyone’s expectations. This future self impresses God and is worthy of love.

The problem is, on the days that I do actually accomplish a should…there is another one just waiting to taunt me.

But who am I now? 

Who should I be at 24 versus who am I at 24? Unfortunately I don’t have a clear answer for either option. 

The should is elusive and the am is fluid.

I get frustrated when I can’t wrap my fingers or my brain around something. I feel that I can’t claim something that I can’t articulate. If I can’t articulate who I am, should I claim who I am?

So I pray. I ask God who God is and I ask God who I am. And I don’t yet have many clear answers, but it isn't as foggy as it once was. The should’s are starting to fade and the am is beginning to take shape. I am learning to rest and enjoy the ride. I am learning who I am in Christ...slowly but surely. 

Funny how this happens when I finally at least attempt to give up control and productivity and let go of what I think I should be doing. 

And by funny...I mean humbling. 

I wrote should 25 times in this post...how many times did you think/say it today? 

Echo Valley

There is a place that holds pieces of me; frozen snapshots of my former selves lay out along the bank of the Frio River. I think the self I love returning to most is the seventh grader. The one with the long mismatched volleyball socks and flip flops crammed between my toes. The one dragging a blanket across the wet morning grass because she forgot fall could feel like this and shorts, socks and long sleeves just aren’t enough. She is completely unprepared but also completely unfazed and living in the moment.

I like the image of that seventh grader because she doesn’t care. She is all there; laughing and anticipating God will show up. She is surrounded by people that love her. She has traveled safely through the winding, hilly roads of the Texas Hill Country. The doors of a van were flung wide open so she could see and hear the tires splashing through the shallow river. She descended deep into a valley where there was no hope for cell phone service- she could only be where she was. She got off the van wrapped tight in a blanket and she stared at the sky...and she really saw the stars. 

I want to live every day like this. I want to live every day like these beginning moments of my first Great Fall Retreat. Where there is no expectation, just anticipation. Something inside me says I can…and as my roommate says, “that’s a start”.  

fighting words

Living for Christ means I must fight my sinful nature at every moment. It means choosing Christ and denying myself ALL DAY LONG.

It means I have to stop and recognize that when I am annoyed at someone/thing I must step back and question what is really going on in my heart. Why am I REALLY upset?

I've learned that in all likelihood it’s not actually because someone next to me is humming or laughing while I am trying to concentrate. What is probably going on is that I am frustrated or confused over something in my life that has nothing to do with my immediate situation. I’d say this is true about 90% of the time. Either way, regardless of the trigger and what I attribute it to, I am visibly annoyed.

For years I shrugged off my temperament as “this is just me, you either love all of me or you don’t; and if you don’t, I won’t blame you or care if you choose not to spend your time with me”.

But my actions affect others. My attitude creates either an environment of acceptance or an environment of tension. People don’t always have the choice to remove themselves from my company. The attitude I described above is not loving. 

Thankfully I am not alone. As I pursue a relationship with God, God is simultaneously, and more persistently, pursuing me. Loving me. Showing me grace. Answering my prayers when I feel my emotions running away from me. Giving me strength to let go and trust when I recognize that I once again am trying to seize control and take a path that makes me feel safe.

One of the most freeing prayers I ever pray is simply: “Help”.

This blog is an exercise in obedience. I alluded to that in my first post but I’m going to elaborate upon it here. This blog is me fighting my nature to hold my shame and fears close to my chest while I pretend to have it all together.

For years I meant to blog. There was a brief stint in high school where I dabbled in the world of Live Journal (or “eljay” as I cleverly obnoxiously referred to it). 

When I was in Russia and Ecuador writing was my connection to home. It was the way I communicated with the people who prayed for me and/or supported me financially and helped allow for my travel. When I returned to the States I was affirmed again and again over my writing. People I never expected told me they looked forward to my updates; that they shared them with others.

I used to think of myself as an open person, using these posts and my willingness to answer any question as proof; but I have realized recently that I am only open about the pretty things. The things that are not pretty that I share I do so in such a way that they are veiled and vague so I am not judged or discredited. I realize now that I share the messy things only when so much time has passed that I can tie things up neatly and say “but look how much I learned” or so that I am able to laugh them off as childish and behind me.

This is a problem.

Too often those things are not behind me. My flippancy is a sign that they are still there, I am just not dealing with them.

This is not only crippling me, but also crippling my relationships. I think it is crippling my witness and I am robbing myself of the opportunity, and shirking my responsibility, to stand before people broken and proclaim that “God still loves me…even despite all of this, Christ’s death on the cross is enough, I am forgiven”.

Just like it matters that I personally understand WHY I am annoyed and get to the heart of that and deal with it…it also matters that I share the brokenness that I discover. It matters that I claim it and stop pretending to have it all together.

I don’t know where the line is in regards to sharing life with others. I don’t know if there really is a clear-cut line. I think it takes time to build trust and I think we should protect the privacy of those who are a part of the messy parts of our stories.

We don’t have to share everything with everyone.

I won’t share everything on this blog.

But, I will continue to actively ask for help and search my heart for the areas where I struggle and allow myself to be open and vulnerable with others as the Spirit leads me.

That is why this blog is an experiment in obedience. It is saying yes to vulnerability. It is facing my fear of saying something wrong; of putting my name on something and having to account for it. Of saying something true and right and being criticized all the same. It is humbly admitting that I am not doing this on my own. 

Deep down I am a people pleaser. I want to control and protect my image and how people think of me.

I think we all do.

But, I also think we are all crying out from our souls for someone to be real with us…so that we can have someone to be real with in turn.  

the man under my house

I grew up around houses. I lived in one. I watched them being built. I watched them being sold. I built my own out of Lincoln logs on my grandparent’s floor.

Two rules for Lincoln logs with Papa: whoever dumps them out of the bucket has to pick them up, and no matter what you always start your house with a strong foundation.

I was always the one who dumped them out of the bucket.

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Tonight, there was a man under the floor of my house. Right now, there is dirt all over the inside of my house, FROM UNDERNEATH MY HOUSE. Weird. I understand that my home is not built on a concrete slab of a foundation…but really…there’s just dirt under there?

So we had roaches. Apparently, the good kind. Our kind didn’t fly, or reproduce uncontrollably. Or something. Either way they were roaches and they kept drowning themselves in our sink. So today the exterminator(s) came.

The first one showed up early. He was almost done by the time we even got home from work. All I had to do when I walked in the door was sign so he could charge my credit card. Perfect.

Really, it was perfect.

When exterminator #1 was about to leave he got a call from exterminator #2, who would be inspecting for termites. I didn’t have any firm plans so I said sure, have him come as soon as he can. Later exterminator #2 called me and made sure I still wanted him to come. This was at 6:45…their window was 5:00-7:00pm…just under the wire exterminator #2, but sure come on over…should only take about 45 minutes to an hour? 

Sounds great.

Some quick texting and I had dinner with a group of friends set up for 8pm, just the perfect amount of time according to my calculations and exterminator #2’s timeline.

It ended up being one of those nights that you look around as you are talking to exterminator #2’s children on your driveway (wondering why his kids were there…so were we) and think this is just ridiculous.

Then, all of a sudden, one of the children says “I know your friend, she was our leader at VBS last week”. And you think “sure that makes sense, she must have seen Jess come home”

…except she didn’t. She recognized her picture on our fridge…which she saw from the porch through the window on our back door. Because she is a child on a service call, and kids do and say whatever they want. 

And THAT is when you realize just how weird it all is.

I didn’t get to meet friends for dinner until after 9:00…I didn’t even bother ordering because I didn’t want them to have to keep waiting. I scammed food off my friend’s plate. Not the enchiladas I was craving. Not even close.

I have a tendency to get really irritated and super frustrated when things mess up my plans. Especially when I feel like I am letting people down (it was my idea to have dinner and I barely made it there before the restaurant closed).  But as I sat on my couch thinking about the amount of stuff I have to put back in cabinets and the amount of dirt I need to get off my floor and the possibility of termites or that the wood holding up my house might rot…I prayed.

I prayed for patience and I prayed that I could show love and show grace even when I was being inconvenienced. And I hope I did that. I do know that after talking with this man’s children that I’m not going to call and complain to his supervisor about the various things I wanted to at first.

Tonight children helped me understand a little more about seeing people for more than the service they are providing me. They are awesome kids and he seems like a great dad.

I want to be better at loving people. I want to be better at seeing people the way Jesus sees them.

Loving people means being willing to be inconvenienced; to have your plans put on hold. But it also means having a pretty amusing conversation with a ten-year-old and a seven-year-old on your front porch on a Thursday night.

Plus, at the end of the day I have to remember that Jesus was a lot more than inconvenienced because of his love for me. 

drinking through a fire hose

I’m sort of “drinking through a fire hose”.

Pretty terrifying image if you let things get too literal.

Twice in my life this phrase has been thrust upon me.

The first time: a sympathetic advisor checked in on my rapid transition into a very visible and influential campus leadership position…

…the second time: today, as I used it myself to describe my relationship to the onslaught of information I am ingesting.

I called my parents tonight. My dad asked about the peach trees. I said I hadn’t made it back there to check on them in a while. He advised I “put some water on them so they don’t get stressed”.

I could have used a sprinkler…but the idea of spending the time to position it perfectly just didn’t seem right. Not when I knew that I would probably forget to turn it off and that it would come back to haunt me on this month’s water bill.  Now my ankles itch.

Twice today, first from a friend and then in a book, I interacted with the idea of meeting God through service; through every day work or tasks…or through the physical discomfort of tending the earth.

I am seeking to meet God. So now my ankles itch. And at work today I felt my face drifting to that familiar overwhelmed look. I’ve never done well at hiding emotions. I think it freaks people out. I think everything about the way I felt today was invigorating.

I’ve once again found myself in a position that I admit that I cannot do on my own. The first time this happened I was much more anxious to embrace what I was about to take on. This time I am surer that my God will equip me for wherever I am led.

Becoming MSC President at Texas A&M the year we reopened the Living Room of campus…is overwhelming for someone who dislikes public speaking and feels very awkward in social small talk situations. It literally took me to my knees. It took me to prayer because I knew that nothing I did within that position was by my own efforts or skill. It was all the grace of God. The grace God showed me in the little steps of preparation that led to that point; and the grace God showed me as every day I learned to navigate and do the very best that I could.

I can see God’s hand all over the opportunity I now have to serve at Waco Habitat for Humanity. I am learning a lot in a very short amount of time. And I love it. I love the challenge. But more than the challenge I love that as I drove around town running errands today, going through my list of things and meetings to accomplish I had to stop and pray that somehow God would help me get it all done. And God did.

The peaches outback are growing. They aren’t drinking through a fire hose the way I often do. In fact, they are about to face a very dry Texas summer. But as I stood outside tonight providing them something they desperately need I thought again about the waters in my own life. I think about the times I spend with God each day reading scripture or reading books or reflecting and I know that those times are strengthening me to always turn to back to my source as I face whatever powerful gushing may come.

Urge Day

Urge Day. It’s an elusive date…one that Katherine* and I created years ago as we bonded over our same irrational/inappropriate desires. You know the ones. Those urges that pop into your head that if you carried them out things would get dicey for your social life. Things like standing up on a table in a restaurant and singing at the top of your lungs, squirting ketchup at someone, shoving a friend/stranger off the sidewalk…the list goes on and on. The movie “The Purge” is a rip off. Of me. And Kat. Urge Day was founded/discovered/birthed YEARS ago.

Except we forgot what day it is.

I’m sure by now you’ve caught on…on Urge Day you get to do everything you want. That pesky conscience is silenced. [I should say here that I will NOT be seeing “The Purge” (Seriously…they even used the word “urge” in their title…come on). Mostly because they stole our idea…but a little because it sounds terrifying.]

I’m maybe more of a chicken/a little more responsible than this post is letting on. I spent A LOT of time thinking in terms of risk management and safety for large groups of impetuous freshmen/sophomores/grown-ups…and now, as a result, in every situation I see 15 potential ramifications to the action I am about to take. Shoving someone off a sidewalk can get you sued.  

Some people come into your life and change you for the better, simply by their existence. Kat is one of those people. My favorite life lesson that Kat’s existence has taught me thus far is wrapped up in urges. She refuses to do things out of obligation or guilt. She just really and truly doesn’t care what people think. She is trying to bring back scrunchies (which I’m against on principle, but we’ve remained friends despite this). I want to be more like Katherine. Over the years I have drifted more and more in this direction.

I require a fair amount of down time. I love reading. I really enjoy cooking. Writing is a thing in my life. Yet sometimes I feel the pressure to go out and be with large groups at every opportunity because I might miss out on something, when in actuality sitting at home sounds really nice.

Life is about balance. We can’t act on every urge but we can pick the ones that are important to us…and it doesn’t have to be the same urge every time. We can choose the ones that help keep us sane for that moment. We can be honest and realize that trying to do everything doesn’t bring fulfillment. Sometimes we need the quiet solitude; or time with one good friend to reconnect with who we actually are and face areas where we might need to grow.

Last night I spent time with a lot of the people I love here in Waco, and it was perfect…and tonight when offered another night out…I chose to clean the house, hang out with the Roomz, cook dinner, watch Downton Abbey, and write this blog. There was a point tonight when Mumford was blaring through the kitchen and I thought about how happy I was about following this evening’s urge and how glad I was to be in that moment.

Happy Saturday. Happy Urge Day.

 

 

 

*This is Katherine. Or Kat. Or Kafs. Yes, those are socks on our hands. Friendship socks. Yes, we did recite a secret friendship chant the first time we put them on. Also, that’s me on the left.

somewhere between Waco Dr. and IH35

I’ll be blunt. I did not want to spend three years in Waco. As with many things in my life I saw my time at seminary as a stepping stone to get to the next goal. In my case, overseas somewhere sharing the Gospel and helping meet local needs whatever those might be. I trace this negativity back to an A&M vs. Baylor football game with an Old Ag…apparently there is some DEEP rivalry here…mostly one sided from the best I can tell…but let’s just say it mirrors our attitude toward “T.U.” and just like most longhorns don’t really give much thought to Aggies…neither do we toward Baylor, but they certainly think about us. [I feel it is important to point out here that we won that game. And although I myself did not purchase a “Sucks to B.U.” t-shirt…I still smirk every time I see one as it hits that soft spot in my heart for clever digs.]

But I digress. This Old Ag gave me a forewarning of some, shall we say, persecution as I arrived in Waco at the end of last summer. Every swipe of my A&M debit card tied to every sidelong glance at my Aggie Ring deeper ingrained my distaste for this place God called and provided for me to be for three years. Add to that the illogical city planning that when coupled with my ever deteriorating sense of direction left me lost in corners of the city I’m not sure anyone else has traipsed. Then I found out 3 years isn’t even a realistic amount of time to finish my MDiv…it is going to be more like 4.

One day when complaining about the weather (as I write this I wonder how anyone puts up with me at all with all of this complaining and negativity) my roommate said that she has a hard time complaining about the weather because God created it and for some reason allows it to be whatever it is.

So with this God-centered attitude ringing in my ears (which at the time I was probably annoyed about, let’s be real) I set back out to school or to try to find the grocery store or something. As I reached the crest of the hill on Valley Mills between Waco Drive and IH35 I was suddenly overwhelmed with the truth that God created Waco. God created the people that call it home. God provided in incredible ways to give me the opportunity to know God better in this place at this time. God loves Waco and I should too.

I’ve found lately that God likes to introduce a big idea to me and then let it marinate for a bit as little, daily things transform that idea into a belief and eventually into a lifestyle. Today as I drove through Austin past all of the places and things I have loved my whole life I realized that I love Waco. And it’s hard to articulate why. I just do. I love my school, which to be honest I still just think of as Truett and not Baylor…but maybe that will change one day. I love my church; I love the genuine community, the honesty, the desire to serve God purely and cut out things that hinder that pursuit. I love my friends and their stories and how God has intertwined them into mine. I love the farmers’ market. I love the old buildings downtown, and the ducks that refuse to eat the stale bread or over-salted WingStop fries that I throw at them. I love my jobs; I love getting to be a part of something bigger than myself at Waco Habitat and that God allows me to use my talents and passions there, I love that I get to research the topic of missions even when I’m not in any missions classes. This process of loving Waco has helped me love God deeper, or maybe loving God deeper has helped me love Waco. I don’t know, maybe it is both.

This time is not a stepping stone. There is no goal other than learning to love God deeper every day as I learn how to love the things God loves and has placed me amongst here and now.